Mr. Gilmore's Capitol Punishment: He's Stuck in California's 'Dog House'

[question everything]

MAY 14, 2009

Mr. Gilmore's Capitol Punishment: He's Stuck in California's 'Dog House'
After Beating a Democrat, GOP Freshman Gets Assembly's Tiniest Office; Stepladder as Seat

By STU WOO
WSJ

SACRAMENTO, Calif. -- Danny Gilmore was elected to the California Assembly just last November, but he's already in The Dog House. That's the California Capitol's smallest office, Room 5126, and its nickname denotes both its dimensions and the occupant's status. The two-room, 391-square-foot space is so tiny it doesn't have a reception area. Visitors must wait outside in the drab hallway instead. "Sometimes they sit on the ladder," says legislative assistant Beth Hummel, pointing to a small, gray stepladder in front of a cabinet. Mr. Gilmore, 59 years old, is the latest of a breed of California officials who have occupied The Dog House. The privilege is famously granted to those who have rubbed statehouse leaders the wrong way. In Washington, the U.S. House and Senate both dole out office space based on seniority. In Sacramento, the Assembly and Senate leaders are in charge of housekeeping. Upsetting these Capitol bosses can cost a lawmaker not only a committee chairmanship but also their respectable quarters.

(snip)

A spokeswoman for Democratic Assembly Speaker Karen Bass declined to comment, referring questions to the assembly's chief administrative officer, Jon Waldie. Mr. Waldie says the assignment is just a matter of available real estate. "I've got 80 members I've got to have offices for, and that's one of the 80," he says. The average office of an Assembly Democrat measures 1,171 square feet, while Republicans get an average of 746 square feet. "Generally, the smaller offices fall to those in the minority party," Mr. Waldie concedes.

Mr. Waldie and other Capitol veterans say the tradition of doghouse politics transcends Room 5126 and dates back to at least the early 1960s -- the days of legendary Speaker Jesse "Big Daddy" Unruh. The Democratic speaker was repeatedly opposed by Republican Bruce Allen, who "didn't know when to roll over and play dead," says Tim Hodson, the executive director of Sacramento State University's Center for California Studies. Mr. Allen lost his committee chairmanship -- a typical penalty for those who defy legislative leaders -- and was exiled to a lesser office space. Storied Speaker Willie Brown was another fan of office politics. In 1988, he punished the "Gang of Five," a group of moderate Democrats who tried to oust him as Assembly speaker. Mr. Brown sent them to five of the Capitol's tiniest offices. One of the Gang, Chuck Calderon, says Mr. Brown also moved his parking spot to a slot behind three other cars.

(snip)

Mr. Brown readily admits that he sent the Gang to lesser digs. "Only an idiot as speaker would not protect his job, and he would utilize the rules in a most appropriate way to achieve that," he says. One of his lieutenants was in charge of Mr. Calderon's office assignment, Mr. Brown says. "I'm certain it didn't have to do with Chuck's diet," he says, then chuckles. Ms. Bass, the current Assembly speaker, may have doled out the harshest punishment yet. After Democrat Nicole Parra refused to vote on a budget during a lengthy impasse last summer, Ms. Bass relocated her to a tiny one-room office -- in a state building across the street from the Capitol.

(snip)

The first inmate listed on The Dog House wall plaque is Jim Battin, a former Republican assemblyman who says he was sent there in 1998 by then-Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa, a Democrat. Mr. Battin believes the downsizing was retribution for praising a Republican candidate for speaker as a man of "conviction, character and integrity" in a floor speech.

(snip)


http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124224825395716665.html (subscription)

Printed in The Wall Street Journal, page A1